<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>When You're Strange by QueenOfNewOrleans22</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24600346">When You're Strange</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfNewOrleans22/pseuds/QueenOfNewOrleans22'>QueenOfNewOrleans22</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Lost Boys (Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Backstory, Gen, Vampire Turning</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 07:47:35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,790</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24600346</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfNewOrleans22/pseuds/QueenOfNewOrleans22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Star is a runaway, David is a vampire, and one cold night in Santa Carla, they meet.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>David/Star (Lost Boys)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>When You're Strange</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Santa Carla....Murder Capital Of The World! </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Usually, such a claim would bring only a scoff- after all, Star wasn't an idiot, and whoever had spray painted those words on the back of the sign with the emblazoned name of this town surely had to have been joking around, right? Except Star has read the newspaper, and had seen the missing posters pinned to every available surface, and could sense the danger, laying just below the brimming surface, threatening to overflow, and didn't care to take those words lightly, especially since she really wasn't in the position to laugh at what seemed, at first, like an idle threat. </p><p>Now, it seemed more much more real, like a threat uttered by a knife-wielding maniac. At first, the sun had disguised how dangerous the town really was, or, at least, seemed, hiding how creepy it really was at night, when the boardwalk lit up like a Christmas tree and where kids leered at you from the thin slots between buildings like underfed vultures. There were tons of people, but Star for the distinct feeling that she wouldn't be missed if one of those kids grabbed at her with a dirty little hand and pulled her into the darkness. A part of her felt sorry for them, how malnourished they looked, how their clothing was streamed with dirt and grime, but she couldn't afford to help them, especially since all of her carefully collected money had been stolen by the last kid that Star has tried to help. </p><p>Her purse and everything within it had been taken, and now all Star had was the clothes she was wearing with not even enough money to be a hotel room. She was far from spoiled, but the idea of sleeping on a bench was a foreign one that she didn't care to think about. Not yet. </p><p>Wrapping her shawl around her body tighter, as if to help ward off the biting cold, Star gazed at the teenagers sprawled around the boardwalk, chatting among themselves, flirting, smoking, trying to win rigged games. They all looked dangerous- or wannabe dangerous, with looks in their eyes, promising a wild time up until it actually came to do good on their promise. </p><p>Star sighed. Walking amongst the teenagers, brushing past mothers with their kids held tightly by the hand, by boyfriends and girlfriends making out, feeling a familiar tightening around her heart. Isn't that what she came here for? Not to be homeless, not to be poorer than the drifters that went inside bars and Never seemed to come back out, but to fall in love with a boy who whispered sweet nothings and always seemed to know the right things to say. </p><p>Her mother had called her a hopeless dreamer, and Star had called her a drugged up bitch. Her mother had said to get out and never come back, and Star had tossed up a finger as she left. It was so different from Star's usual personality that even she had been shocked as she walked down the driveway and out into the world, so big, so crazy. </p><p>A pretty girl with blonde hair appeared, holding the hand of one <em>very </em>drunk man who paid Star no attention as they went past, startling her with the suddeness. If there was one thing about Santa Carla that Star has learned in her short stay, it was that people were either overtly friendly or downright cruel, no in between to be seen. </p><p>"C'mon, Greg!" The girl said in between her hysterical giggles, and Star bristled. She readjusted herself as she watched them go, pulling her shawl back up, and continued walking resolutely. </p><p>Star had no idea where she was headed, but she'd figure it out. </p><p>-----</p><p>After a few more minutes of walking with no end in sight, Star sat down on the exact bench she'd been dreading to sleep on. It was hard and cold, but preferable to walking on her aching feet any longer. </p><p>There were a couple of boys hanging out nearby, calling out to passing girls and smoking. Star couldn't help but glance briefly at their faces, feeling a flutter in her chest at the sight of one of them. He, just like the others boys that were hanging around him, had a bad boy vibe about him and the way he looked. He promised danger and intrigue, mystery and darkness. </p><p>He was wearing black. Black coat, jeans, boots, shirt, gloves. It offset his beached blonde hair and pretty blue eyes, but seemed to compliment the smoke that wafted around him, like one of the bad boys from a novel that Star would find at the local book store. The boys around them were talking, laughing, but he wasn't, instead looking at something else. </p><p>Star looked around to see what had caught the attention of those eyes. There was nothing but shops advertising comics and tapes and clothing, but Star for the feeling that he wasn't looking at the shops and their emblazoned names, but, rather, at something only he could see. </p><p>"Oh, man!" One of the boys said, bursting out into loud, voracious laughter. </p><p>This caught the guy's attention, and Star quickly turned away to avoid being caught in his gaze. </p><p>Across from them was a shop called 'Max's Video Store' and it didn't escape Star's attention that, inside, an older man in a garish tweed jacket was watching, his eyes sharp behind a pair of eyeglasses.</p><p>Star leaned back, as if to counteract this man's look, but the boys seemed to have a different idea. </p><p>"C'mon. We need to get going." The blonde that Star has been looking at said, his voice somehow both soft and commanding at the same time, and his friends followed without much trouble besides the one who had been laughing putting his fingers to his mouth and whistling at a woman, who merely glared as she walked into the video store. </p><p>Star watched as they left, hearing as they revved their bikes and drove away, and resolved herself into never seeing those pretty blue eyes again. </p><p>--------</p><p>
  <em>What next? </em>
</p><p>After leaving the boardwalk, Star made her way down toward the beach, where sand sunk between her toes and where the sea went up, up, up in a high tide before going back down. There were a few scattered groups dancing around bonfires and drinking, so Star settled down beside a set of stairs and started thinking. </p><p>No money, no home. Her mother was probably enjoying freedom, and Star was wondering if it was always so cold. Her shawl was thin, and provided little warmth. The Fire looked so inviting, so warm, but Star didn't want to get close to whoever may be gathered around. </p><p>Blinking away a sudden wave of tears, Star wiped her eyes and felt a rising tide of anger within herself. So stupid. Why'd she not hold her bag a little tighter so that kid couldn't have taken off with it? Why'd she argue with her mother, anyways? Star couldn't remember, or maybe didn't want to remember. Maybe it was better not to. </p><p>
  <em>So cold. </em>
</p><p>Star buried her face in her knees, feeling so close to sobbing that it was pathetic. She was cold, and beginning to feel hungry, and homeless. </p><p>"I don't think you'll get anywhere doing that." A voice said, suddenly and quietly. Star jumped, trying to get her feet underneath her so that she could stand, but ending up just sitting there as the boy from the boardwalk watched with a smirk on his lips and a cigarette clutched between his fingers. </p><p>Star pushed herself up, watching him carefully. There was something about him that was different, and Star couldn't tell if it was a good or bad different. </p><p>"Doing what?" Star asked defensively, even though she knew perfectly well what he was talking about. </p><p><em>Pitying </em>herself. Just sitting down and abandoning all hope. It wasn't how she usually behaved, but Star has gotten herself into a mess that she couldn't get herself out of, no matter how much she thought about it, about the possibilities. Santa Carla was a mistake. It whispered of danger and showed off its missing posters like medals. </p><p>The boy flicked his cigarette and crushed it beneath his boot. "Acting like the world is ending." He said. It had the potential for a joke, but Star didn't feel like laughing, or even smiling. She crossed her arms and watched as he looked on, unbothered. </p><p>"How long have you been here?" She demanded. </p><p>A casual shrug was the only response. The boy looked off toward the moon, a big, pale globe hanging in the dark sky, reflecting in his eyes. </p><p>Star shivered. The boy noticed, and raised his eyebrows. "It's always cold at night." He said, as if to comfort her, assure her that she wasn't alone. But Star didn't feel comforted, especially since he was wearing a heavy coat and didn't seem the least bit bothered by the chill. "Where are your friends?" She asked, instead of pointing that out. </p><p>Somehow, he seemed so much more dangerous by himself, devoid of his friends, devoid of anybody. He both interested and scared Star, who was thinking about those missing posters, those pictures in the newspaper. </p><p>"They've gone home." He answered in a flippant tone, as if it didn't matter. "My name is David." He then said, as if Star was interested, which she was, but wouldn't admit no matter what. </p><p><em>David. </em>Star had always liked that name, how it rolled off her tongue, how it sounded. It was normal, unlike her own name, and she'd always appreciated names that didn't sound like their parents were high when they'd named them. "Star." She offered, to be fair. </p><p>David chuckled. "Star. That's interesting." He was amused, and it showed. Star liked the way that David said it, and smiled back, beginning to warm up to the stranger with pretty eyes. He was undeniably handsome, and nicer than his appearance would suggest. </p><p>"Well, <em>Star, </em>it's getting early, and I need to be heading home. Would you care to join me?" David offered his hand, keeping his tone light. </p><p>Star considered it. Everything she had ever learned about stranger danger and all those things were screaming at her to say 'no' but something about David, about his demeanor, about his words, made Star feel entranced, made her feel attracted to more than just his looks. </p><p>David wouldn't hurt her. Star suddenly felt so sure about that, and it shocked her, but she knew, deep down and high above, that David wouldn't hurt her, wouldn't make her regret it. </p><p>
  <em>Come with me, Star....</em>
</p><p>Star took the offered hand, and that smirk turned into a smile. </p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>